Edward and Richard made their way onto the main street, heading toward the affluent district.
As they walked, the surroundings gradually changed; the simple huts of the poorer areas gave way to elegant houses made of gray bricks and tiles.
Here, their patrol uniforms no longer held the same authority, instead drawing indifferent or disdainful glances from passersby.
Outside a mansion gate, a group had gathered.
A tall, thin steward stood at the entrance, looking worn out and troubled.
At the sight of curious onlookers inching closer, he waved them off irritably.
"Go on, now. This isn't something for you to see! Get moving, go on!"
Grumbling, the crowd reluctantly dispersed, though their whispers continued.
The Smith family's steward, irritated by the noise, pinched the bridge of his nose, sounding weary.
"There's no demon here, I've told you a hundred times!
Haven't you read the notice on the gate?
Edward can kill weasel demons; any small fry at our place wouldn't be any trouble for him!"
Casting a scornful glance at the onlookers, he muttered to himself, "Edward, huh... as if any of you understand."
Edward was no stranger to the Smith family, frequently borrowing money as if the family were an endless well.
That this seemingly idle, gambling man could kill demons had left the steward baffled.
Shaking his head with a sigh, he watched as the crowd parted, revealing Edward striding toward him.
He carried himself calmly, a cool gaze in his eyes, his clothing neat and sharp.
Behind him, Richard walked with a solemn expression.
"Oh, this should be interesting," murmured someone in the crowd.
"Seems the notice wasn't just a bluff. Edward's actually here to investigate demons."
A chill ran down the steward's spine.
Despite his trepidation, he forced a polite smile as he approached Edward.
"Mr. Edward… what brings you here?" he asked nervously.
Edward gave him a cold look, his tone measured and unhurried.
The steward, now sweating, plastered a stiff smile on his face.
Ignoring him, Edward continued walking toward the mansion's entrance.
The steward's smile faltered as he raised his voice, calling after Edward.
"Edward, the master isn't here."
Watching Edward, he waited for him to take the hint and leave.
Edward shot him a calm glance and stepped forward.
"I'm not here for him. Show me the body, if you please."
The steward's face changed, caught off guard.
After a brief hesitation, he raised his voice, hoping to dissuade Edward.
"Edward, a priest from the government has already been here."
Edward paused only briefly before replying evenly, "The priest's conclusion is his own. I have my duty."
The steward's face twitched, his smile forced.
Edward inclined his head slightly, meeting the steward's uneasy gaze.
"A second look won't hurt."
The steward froze, visibly stunned.
This Edward was nothing like the young man who'd once borrowed money at every turn; he was calm, persistent.
After a brief struggle, the steward managed a thin smile, stepping aside reluctantly.
"If you insist on investigating, please follow me."
Turning around, he opened the gate, though his stiff expression and uneasy glances betrayed his apprehension.
…
Inside the Smith estate, Mr. Smith accompanied two men of vastly different appearances as they made their way from the hall.
The man in front was tall and thin, around fifty, his frame straight as a rod, his face gaunt beneath a black robe.
Behind him was a burly, middle-aged man who stood like a human mountain.
With coarse, needle-like facial hair, he exuded a rugged, imposing presence.
His broad hand rested on his belt, his gaze dark and forbidding.
The priest halted at the door, preparing to bid Mr.
Smith farewell, but his gaze caught sight of Edward and his companions, pausing briefly.
"Ah, this must be Edward. I've heard much about you; it's a pleasure to meet."
The burly man behind him raised an eyebrow, scrutinizing Edward with a hint of curiosity.
Their manner toward Edward was not that of strangers; rather, it was subtly probing.
The burly man cast Edward a cold, assessing look, barely exerting the effort to observe yet still conveying a sense of appraisal.
As the priest's gaze fell on Richard, he felt a chill.
Gripping his sword's hilt, his body tensed under the priest's calm yet intense presence.
"I'm undeserving of such praise," Edward replied coolly.
He gave the steward a look and continued into the mansion without hesitation.
Just as he was about to step past them, the priest, still smiling, took a step forward, once again blocking his way.
Every move seemed calculated, his demeanor calm and controlled.
He gestured to his deacon with a deeper smile.
"Edward, this here is my deacon.
He's looking for a stable position. I hear the town council could use talent; perhaps you could put in a word?"
The deacon gave a slight bow, his expression respectful, as if this interaction were purely routine.
Edward nodded and replied neutrally, "Of course."
With a slight gesture, Edward stepped aside courteously.
"But I am here on official business and must attend to my duty. I hope you understand."
He attempted to move around them once more, but the priest blocked his path again, his gaze laced with hidden intent.
Edward met his gaze steadily.
The priest chuckled, resting a hand on Edward's shoulder.
"I am much older than you. You're young, with an aura too sharp for your own good.
A chat with an elder like me might do you some good."
Even Richard could feel the subtle tension in the air.
Mr. Smith and the steward watched silently, their eyes cast down.
They had little faith in Edward's ability, doubting his skills.
In full view of all present, Edward took a moment, then calmly removed the priest's hand from his shoulder.
"No need. I have a task to complete today; my apologies."
His actions froze the atmosphere instantly. The priest's eyes narrowed.
The deacon observed Edward, the faint smirk beneath his thick beard turning into a mocking grin.